


Would I Become Her

by MT_Yami



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Allusion to Hak/Yona and Hak/Soo-Won, Angst, M/M, Substitution, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 21:26:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MT_Yami/pseuds/MT_Yami
Summary: Despite the fire rising in his cheeks, Kija let his robes slip from his shoulders to expose milky white skin, almost pearlescent in the moonlight, and held Hak’s dark, unreadable gaze."So therefore, to preserve Hime-sama’s most precious honor, I must ask you to consider holding me...in her stead."





	Would I Become Her

He always waited until it was his turn at watch, Yona and Yoon curled up tightly in their makeshift beds surrounded by a circle of slumbering Dragons. Only then would his dark figure move with swift and soundless feet into the night, the deep thicket masking his intentions. There, in the shifting moonlight, he began.

And that night, like every night since he first witnessed it, Kija’s blood burned.

Differently, than it did when he first met Yona. This was something primal, thick and honeyed, not the omnipotent magnetism that drew him to her as servant to master. This was desire in its rawest form, cut into the shape of a tall, dark-haired general.

His robe was pulled open haphazardly, his glistening chest laid bare to the cool night air. He sighed as he reached down and touched himself, grasping and stroking almost desperately, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth a tight frown.

Kija bit back a sigh of his own, mesmerized by the sight of him. The splendid Raijuu, lost in his own pleasure, alone in a clearing on a moonlit night.

He had never _participated_ before in his nightly acts of voyeurism, but that night, it was as if Kija could taste the ache in the other man’s heated breaths, a lust that had suddenly reached a fever pitch. Before long, he found himself unable to stop his hands from wandering down to the throbbing center of his own desire...when had morbid curiosity become _desire?_

Had something happened recently to stoke the flames of the general’s lust? Was the princess awakening to his carnal needs? Why, on this particular night, did Kija allow himself to fantasize about those strong hands and that sharp tongue, repurposed from insults into wantonness, mercilessly commanding him to reach his own climax—

A strangled cry announcing the peak of his pleasure left his lips before he could stifle it, and Kija froze.

The dark-haired man looked up, hastily covering himself and raising his hands in a defensive stance. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Kija hesitated, his mind racing. _If you do this, everything will change._

But what _hadn’t_ changed recently? When did his favorite insult start to feel like a pet name? Kija couldn’t even remember the last time Hak’s taunts felt like barbs instead of butterflies.

What was left to be afraid of?

“Hak?” he offered, holding his hands up in surrender. “It’s just me.” Kija stepped out of the shadows, and watched the expression on the general’s face turn into one of utter confusion.

“ _Shirohebi?_ H-how long have you been standing there?” Hak stammered, panic evident in his voice.

“Ah...some time.” Kija’s ears pinked with the admission, and he saw Hak’s face redden in response.

“So, you’ve been watching me.”

Kija shrugged, refusing to meet his intense blue gaze.

“But why are you here? It’s not your turn to be on watch.”

The white-haired Dragon took a deep breath and sighed, long-suffering and resigned. “No, but I am merely performing my duties as a servant of my master.”

Hak snorted, despite himself. “How is that? Wandering around the forest at night peeping on people doesn’t exactly strike me as Four Dragons business.”

“Well,” Kija shot him an indignant look and huffed, crossing his arms, “I know that you desire Hime-sama and want to do lustful things to her,”—Hak’s expression indicated that he was _not wrong_ —“and this I cannot abide by as her loyal Hakuryuu, who has sworn to protect her from all things.” He regarded Hak with fierce aquamarine eyes as he spoke, his jaw clenched tight with nervousness.

“But...I know that you are her important Raijuu, and that you must stay by her side as she commands it.”

He drew a shuddering breath, and steeled himself for what he had resolved to do—no, _wanted_ to do. Despite the fire rising in his cheeks, Kija let his robes slip from his shoulders to expose milky white skin, almost pearlescent in the moonlight, and held Hak’s dark, unreadable gaze.

“So therefore, to preserve Hime-sama’s most precious honor, I must ask you to consider holding me...in her stead. To stave off your wanton needs, so that you can better serve her without distraction.”

Kija bit his lip then and burned with shame. Surely, the Raijuu would mock him for thinking that he could even begin to compare to the beautiful princess—

He barely registered Hak drawing closer, a swift movement that left him a mere breath away. The sudden crushing force of the Raijuu’s lips on his left him stunned.

“What a generous offer, _shirohebi_. So, I can just think of you as her?” Hak smirked, his voice teasing.

Kija averted his eyes and gave a sullen pout. “Don’t be a bully. Are you fine with laying with a man or not?”

“Ah, it’s not as if I hadn’t considered something...like that before.” Hak’s expression darkened for a moment so fleeting that Kija couldn’t be quite sure what it meant. “Stop talking then, and let’s get on with it. After all, aren’t you only a substitute?”

Kija regretted his bravado immediately, but nodded, unable to let pride subdue his overwhelming desire. Suddenly the night air felt cold, the tiny hairs rising on his exposed shoulders.

That is, until Hak’s fevered kisses on his bare skin spread fire from point of contact all the way to his toes.

He had lain with men before, and plenty of women as well. In the isolation of the Hakuryuu village, he was considered the epitome of beauty, and finding a willing partner had never been difficult. But Kija had never allowed himself to truly want for anyone, short of the ancient desire to seek a master.

 _I’m sorry, Grandmother. At this rate, I will never find the partner you’d always hoped for me_.

“Hey, if you’re going to bravely offer yourself like that, then you should pay attention to me.” Hak’s voice was teasing but gentle as he leaned down to press his forehead against Kija’s.

Kija nodded absently, his hands coming up to tug at Hak’s robes, sliding them off of the taller man’s shoulders. Hak flinched when ivory scales brushed his bare chest, and Kija’s stomach lurched.

“Ah…sorry.” _That’s right, he didn’t grow up in the Hakuryuu village. He must think my claw is ugly._ “You’re probably not used to...that, so I’ll try not to touch you with it.”

Hak shook his head. “No, it’s not that, it’s just a little cold.” He took Kija’s right hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. “I think it’s beautiful. Your scales are almost iridescent in the moonlight.”

_“Hakuryuu-sama, your scales are so pretty! You are more beautiful than any Hakuryuu before you, so please, let me be yours.”_

“You don’t have to flatter me, Raijuu.” He shook his claw free and continued to open Hak’s robes, chasing the trail of his fingertips with his lips. When he came down to the ties of his pants, Hak grunted and pushed him away.

The split second of hurt passed when Kija realized that Hak was actually fumbling at the ties himself, his impatience evident. Kija knelt, rocked back on his heels, as Hak finally ripped the ties loose, his manhood once again standing at full attention. Kija’s breath caught at the sight of it, rising proudly from dark curls and flushed dark with arousal. It was one thing to have seen it from far away, but to be this close...was just too...

In his daze, he became aware of Hak’s hands tangled in his hair, silvery in the lunar glow, spilling out from between his rough fingers. _Warm, they feel so warm_ , was all that Kija could think, the scent of Hak all around him growing thick and heady. He pressed his lips to the pearl of liquid at the swollen tip, his tongue a gentle swirl.

The general’s appreciative groan sent Kija’s blood running backwards in his veins, punctuated by the pain of Hak’s fingers tugging none-too-gently on the roots of his hair. Hak began to thrust into his mouth, a steady rhythm that throbbed in time with the need burning deep in Kija’s belly. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurring until all he could sense was the relentless heat between his lips and the maddening sounds of Hak’s pleasure somewhere above his head.

 _“Enough!”_ Hak pulled Kija off of him, chest heaving, his face red and sweat-soaked. “Hakuryuu, you go too far.”

But the quiver in his voice betrayed his reluctance to stop. Kija wiped his mouth on the back of his long white sleeve and chuckled softly. “Not nearly far enough.”

Hak almost looked _angry_ , with himself or with Kija, the white-haired Dragon would never know. He drew a deep, staggering breath as his eyes darted over Kija’s body, the muscles in his neck tense and corded. “Take your robes off.”

Kija obeyed, his clothing already pulled loose from his earlier seduction. When it was a puddle of white around his knees, he saw Hak swallow visibly, his hands shaking.

“Turn around.”

He turned on all fours without a second thought, and almost immediately regretted it. Kija winced as he could feel Hak’s eyes staring intently at the deep scars on his back, the question hanging silently in the air. The frustration he had felt from the other man not moments before instantly softened, the tense atmosphere shifting.

“Kija...what are these?”

“A reminder that I robbed my own father of his powers.” _And it killed him._ Kija held his breath and trembled, but was only met with tenderness, his eyes widening as Hak pressed soft kisses along the tense bow of his back.

“It must be difficult,” the general murmured, with no trace of his usual teasing. “To be the Hakuryuu.”

“Sometimes.” Kija allowed himself a faint smile as Hak’s hands, large and calloused, slid down the bare skin of his sides to rest on his hips. “Hakuryuu, huh...what happened to _shirohebi?”_

Hak chuckled lowly, steadying Kija with one hand and rummaging through his pocket with the other, producing a small jar of salve. “Not at a time like this.”

“Where did you get that... _ah!”_ Hak’s fingers were cold and slick at his entrance, and Kija whimpered.

“Yoon has some very interesting items in his bag.” Hak smirked. “I swiped it for myself, but this is a far better use for it.”

“Just get on with it then,” Kija growled, pressing his cheek to the cool grass beneath him. “Nnn...Hak!”

Hak slipped a finger into him, two, then three, their movement too-full and uncomfortable, but still somehow incredibly arousing. “Just bear with it. I know enough to know that if I don’t, I’ll hurt you, _baka.”_

As Hak prepared him, Kija reached down to stroke his own aching member, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Hak, I can’t take any more, I’m ready, please—”

The full feeling of Hak’s fingers was replaced by a different pressure, rock-hard and hot, and Kija let out a soft moan of anticipation. This seemed to unsettle Hak, who then seized him hard by the hips, thrusting forward without restraint. Kija bit back a yelp of surprise and clenched down, digging into the soft earth by his head with his dragon claw.

His strangled cry clearly tempered Hak’s excitement, as he slowed his thrusting to an agonizing slide, inching further and further down to the hilt with every beat.

“Hey,” Hak said from between gritted teeth, “how do you like it? Hard, fast, rough? Or do you want me to be gentle?”

The question seemed so straightforward, but something about the quake in Hak’s voice made Kija’s stomach uneasy. Or was that from Hak’s rhythmic thrusting? He couldn’t be sure.

“It doesn’t matter what I like,” Kija panted, his hips rutting into the ground with Hak’s weight heavy and sweat-slick on his back.

Hak paused for a moment, and Kija craned his neck around to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” the general murmured with a shake of his head, his strokes quickening. “Feels good.”

 _This isn’t for me,_ Kija thought as a cry of pleasure escaped him. He gripped the ground harder, feeling Hak’s rigid length brush up against sensitive flesh deep inside, each rub an electric thrill. Pressure was building within him, low and white-hot.

They rocked together for some time, Hak’s soft groans and the slap of skin on skin the only sounds filling Kija’s ears. Hak gripped his hips hard enough to bruise, his considerable bulk pressing Kija further into the dirt with each thrust.

_I make this sacrifice for you, Hime-sama._

Deep down, Kija knew even that was a lie.

“Hak...I’m… _ah_!” He groaned, arching up into Hak, his body ablaze. “Please, Hak…”

A searing tightness gripped low in his belly like a vise, threatening to overflow, and Kija gasped, his mind going blank-white. Somewhere far away, he heard Hak speak, voice choked.

“Nn, Kija...I’m close too…ah, _Kija_!”

The shock of hearing his name nearly robbed Kija of climax, his distracted release coming in disjointed, muted waves, pooling beneath him on the grass. Had he expected him to say _her_ name in the throes of his passion?

_After all, Hak is a kinder person than I thought._

The Raijuu came with a shout, still buried to the hilt inside him, his body trembling violently. He collapsed onto Kija’s back with a woozy grunt, their sweat-soaked skin slippery on contact.

“Get off, you’re heavy,” Kija muttered, almost fondly. Hak slipped out of him and rolled onto his back, chest heaving and eyes squeezed shut. It wasn’t long before his shallow gasps for air quieted into the deep, rhythmic breathing that signaled sleep.

Kija gave Hak’s sleeping figure a wry look as he watched him, the wetness between his thighs sticky and growing cold. He curled up onto his side, drawing his knees close to hide his nakedness.

_Will he want to touch me again?_

The thought materialized in Kija’s mind and instantly bathed him in guilt. In his mind’s eye, he imagined a future where his beloved princess would ascend to her rightful throne, undoubtedly with Hak as her king consort. What followed were visions of stolen kisses in palace corridors, disheveled ceremonial robes, and declarations of “this is the last time” in a cycle of pain and hurt he feared far more than being alone.

He sat up with a deep sigh, pulling his robes over his shoulders. There would be plenty of time before then to tamp down the tight, uneasy feeling in his chest that grew ever more complicated as the minutes passed.

After all, it was now his turn at watch. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back in the game after a bit of a writing hiatus to get some life stuff finished. I'm always so surprised at how unpopular this pairing is, so I couldn't help but stick my evil hands in it. Hope you enjoyed the angst smut featuring my sad baby Kija! 
> 
> If you liked what you read, please drop me a comment! You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://mtyami.tumblr.com/).


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